


Elementum

by KpKstudios



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, OC doesn't know it though, OC is the avatar (they can just bend all four elements), OC is the last Bender, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Manga Spoilers, hidden identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-25 05:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30084054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KpKstudios/pseuds/KpKstudios
Summary: Grayson was always aware that he was different from the others. After his parents are killed, he is the only bender left. How will he handle the pain and loss that comes with the world he lives in? Will his secret be revealed? Will they kill him for being himself?Perhaps his ability isn't such a disadvantage after all, but will he be allowed to use it?
Comments: 3
Kudos: 1





	1. A Risky Situation

The view from the rooftop of the Survey Corps’ barracks was undoubtedly one of the best within the walls. The building stretched far beyond those that stood beside it, as well as being superior to them in height. During the evening, a small cluster of glowing lights could be seen, coming from the many houses in nearby districts – a small comfort to be found in the misery of the world. But it didn’t stop there; once the sun peeked from just behind the horizon, many people would begin to stumble out of their houses, scurrying to the downtown marketplace. From the far edge of the barracks, they looked like nothing more than wooden figurines – marionettes, being guided around by an invisible puppeteer, who was strategically pulling at the strings. Grayson had always found their movements calming; the idea that these people were heading somewhere with a task in mind was vastly different from what the Survey Corps offered. Different was good.

Grayson sat on the rooftop, letting his feet dangle freely over the edge. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, he closed his eyes, stretching his arms in an exaggerated yawn. It was a beautiful morning inside the walls; the sun hadn’t risen yet, and the sky was a deep blue color with no clouds to be seen. Tiny, white stars dotted the sky, emitting a soft glow. Looking to the neighboring districts, he could see some people were already starting their day – opening doors and windows and bringing sheets outside to air-out. Grayson focused on a woman – who looked to be in her early 20’s – carrying a basket of neatly piled pastel cloths. She circled her garden, placing the basket on a small, wooden stool that seemed to bend under the added weight. Tying up her sleeves, the woman swiftly tied a string between two poles that were planted firmly in the ground.

Grayson watched as she elegantly took a blueish sheet, giving it a rough shake before clipping it to the clothesline. Next was a yellowish tinted sheet, Grayson recognized the color immediately – a dye harvested from the _Solidago_ , a deep yellow flower that only blooms in summer. The Survey Corps had come across the flower on their last expedition in June. Originally, they would’ve ignored it, but Hanji quickly realized that light seemed to bounce off the petals, creating an intense beam of light that would blind anyone who looked straight into it. As soon as it was discovered, the Commander demanded its reflective properties be incorporated into the maneuvering gear – the dye mixed with the metal would help soldiers see their comrades in dim settings.

Within the past three months, the dye quickly grew in popularity among the young children inside the walls, most wanting it to be the color of their bedsheets. Unfortunately for them, the dye was largely reserved for the Survey Corps, with any excess being sold on the market at a high rate. Grayson stifled a grin as he reminisced about the time the new recruits had the great idea of begging their superiors for extra dye to color their own sheets; their request, of course, was immediately turned down.

“Such children,” he chuckled, shaking his head. He looked back to the woman, but she had already finished hanging up the sheets. Grayson sighed, glancing at the horizon; the sky was painted in shades from pink to purple, and right in the center, was a yellow blob – the morning sun. One look told him that there was no sign of oncoming bad weather, it was a perfect day! A perfect day for spring-cleaning – except, it was August, and the scorching afternoon heat would turn outside labor into a nightmare. Sweat would stain their clothing, which would need to be washed, which in turn would need to be hung outside to dry – a never-ending spiral of doom. Nevertheless, it was a command; if the weather foresaw it, today would be spent cleaning, so the soldiers – many of them, new recruits – made their way to the field.

After a brief run-down of everything that had to be completed by the end of the day, the mass of soldiers was split into small groups, comprising of four to five people. Grayson felt his shoulders untense as his name was called along with the names of his friends: Petra Ral, Oluo Bozado, Eld Jinn, and Gunther Schultz. The assigned task: laundry duty. Oluo had promptly sighed, complaining that sweeping up or washing dishes would’ve been much more pleasant.

“Cheer up, Oluo!” Petra said. “You can’t seriously be thinking that washing gunk off plates would be more exciting than spending the day outside in the fresh air.” She gently nudged Oluo on the shoulder. “Hanging laundry may take slightly longer, but with fewer people around, we’ll be able to joke around more.”

“I agree with Petra,” Eld grunted. “Working outside seems more ideal than spending the day in a stuffy kitchen.” Passing one end of the rope to Petra, the two of them got to work on tightening the clothing line. Meanwhile, Grayson and Gunther focused on retrieving the wooden paddles from the supply closet near the sleeping quarters.

Opening the door to the closet, Grayson quickly spotted the wooden paddles stored away in the very corner of the room; it was sporting a fine layer of dust – a testament to how long it had been since the last thorough cleaning, and certainly not motivating. Gunther scanned the many shelves looking for the clothespins, which should’ve been above the paddles, but were currently nowhere to be found.

“Grayson,” he started, hands still grabbing at different boxes. “Do you want to take these and go on ahead?” He briefly pointed at the paddles. “I think I’ll go ask Captain Levi where we last put the pins, tell the others I’ll be back soon.”

Grayson nodded, grabbing the box, and heading back. The way towards the field was chaotic, to say the least; the corridors were bumbling with recruits running from room to room, carrying everything from papers to dishes, and Grayson had to make an effort to avoid collision. Fortunately, the supply closet wasn’t too far away from the entrance, and he was able to make it out unscathed, albeit annoyed. But it didn’t end there. His irritation only grew when he walked out to see Oluo lazing about, apparently still too appalled by the task to do his part. Petra gave Grayson a gentle look. _Ignore him_ , he could hear her say.

“Hey,” Grayson strode across the field, placing the box with the wooden paddles at his feet. “Gunther said he needed to ask the Captain where the pins are. He’ll be back soon enough.” Petra nodded, bending down to grab one of the paddles. _They’ve certainly seen better days_ , Grayson thought as he glanced at the worn wood in her hands. Following Petra, he picked up two paddles, handing one to Eld while keeping the other for himself. Work would begin soon enough.

Grayson flinched as a recruit haphazardly threw a basket of washed laundry on the grass, narrowly missing his foot. His face contorted and he inwardly cursed the recruit. He himself hadn’t been in the Corps long enough to gain their respect but was it so difficult to act like a decent human being? Eld noticed his discomfort and quickly came to his defense.

“You there,” he grabbed the shoulder of the giggling recruit, spinning him around to face him. “Be more respectful towards your elders.” The warning went unheard, however, as the recruit turned to his two comrades, bursting out in laughter. At least one of them, a red-headed girl, quickly turned away in embarrassment, hands pulling at the sleeve of the unabashed recruit.

“Let’s just go, John!” She pleaded, grip tightening around the cloth. “I don’t want to get in trouble, Captain Levi scares me.” Her last words were almost a whisper.

“Don’t worry,” John said, squaring his shoulders. “That one,” he pointed at Grayson, “isn’t a senior soldier like Mr. Jinn here.” Grayson could see the muscles in Eld’s jaw tighten. You could insult him as much as you like, but insult anyone of his friends – his family – and you were in over your head.

“Who do you think you are?” Eld growled, his voice low and threatening. “You know who I am and yet you insult one of my fellow soldiers – my friend?” The recruit’s shoulders quickly dropped, a scared expression replacing his previous sneering one. It was normal for recruits to have playful banter among themselves, so insults were often thrown about without second thought. Friends, however? Friendship was a deep connection that could only form with time – the longer you know someone, the closer the two of you get. It was a well-known fact that senior members did not use that term loosely and Grayson knew, Eld would put him in his place.

“The Survey Corps does not tolerate disrespect nor sloppy work ethics and let me tell you,” Eld paused, grasping the recruit by the neck, and lifting him from the ground below, “if the titans don’t get to you first, I’ll make sure the Commander finishes you off.” He purposely emphasized the _Commander_ bit, and Grayson smirked to himself when he saw the recruit – John, was his name? – begin to tremble. Eld loosened his grip and the boy abruptly fell to the ground, obviously still in shock and too weak to stand. His red-headed comrade roughly yanked at his arm, begging him to get up with tears in her eyes, while the other helped him to his feet, swinging an arm around her shoulder. They hastily made their way back inside the barracks.

“Thanks,” Grayson mumbled sheepishly, as Eld turned to look at him. “You know you didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course, he did,” Petra cooed, pulling him into an embrace. “You might be the youngest in our friend group, but we all admire your talent. Plus, those guys won’t last a day outside these walls if they continue acting like that. The survey corps relies on teamwork- what do they always say?” She perked up, pointing her finger at the sky.

“Petra please don’t,” Eld and Gunther pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears.

“Oh right,” Petra was glowing, “teamwork makes the dream work! Come on everyone, I won’t stop bugging you until you say it with me.” She put on a devious grin. Everyone groaned – even Oluo, who had just awoken from his nap – but decided it was better for them to say it now and get it over with.

“Teamwork makes the dream work,” they mumbled in synchrony, and Petra seemed satisfied.

“A bit unenthusiastic but I’ll take it. Now back to work everyone, this laundry won’t hang itself!” Grayson chuckled at her enthusiasm. He wasn’t often open about his feelings to others, but he was truly thankful to have friends like them – he would even go as far as to call them family. Despite not officially being a part of the Captain’s squad, Petra saw his potential and introduced him to the team, who immediately took him under their wing. Since then, the five of them were inseparable.

Grayson looked to the heaps of laundry that were piling up in baskets around him; they were in for a long day. The sun had long risen by now, taking its rightful place in the east. The temperature was slowly rising and there was no doubt that the many bed linens, sheets, and uniforms would dry quickly. He inwardly cringed when he saw another new recruit make his way towards him. The blond was carrying a large, metal bucket that was clearly too heavy for his thin frame. _This day just keeps getting better_ , Grayson thought, as he mulled over all the ways in which this interaction could go wrong. Well, worst-case scenario he could always get Eld to threaten the boy.

“Hello!” The blond chirped.

Grayson spared the boy a tight smile, clearly uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier, I don’t know John too well, but he’s been causing trouble since our arrival,” Armin made a face, unphased by the silence. “Anyway, I brought you guys this bucket of water, I figured you might become dehydrated under the heat of the sun.”

Grayson didn’t know what to say – stunned, by the boy’s genuine kindness.

“Thank you,” he mumbled. “The, uh, team appreciates it.”

“Come on Gray,” Petra came over, cupping some water in her hands before raising them to her mouth, gulping the liquid down greedily. “No need to be so defensive, Armin here seems nice enough.”

“Key-word: _seems_ ,” Grayson muttered.

“Oh no,” Armin stuttered, clearly uncomfortable now by the atmosphere that Grayson created. “I don’t mean to cause any trouble, and I assure you, I respect my elders.”

“Good man,” Eld said, giving him a pat on the back.

“Um, may I ask,” Armin hesitated. “How do you know my name?”

“Erwin may have mentioned a promising recruit,” Grayson’s shot Petra a questioning look. Armin seemed to relax under the words though, quickly returning to his former giddy self.

“Anyway, I should go, before my friends start looking for me,” Armin gave them all glowing looks – avoiding Grayson – before hurrying away. Coincidently, Gunther was returning at the time, and Armin – in his enthusiasm – tumbled straight into him.

“Woah! Watch it there, little man,” Gunther yelped, holding the box of pins above his head. “I almost dropped these little suckers,” he held up a pin, twirling it between his fingers. Armin quickly pried himself from the larger man, smiling sheepishly before mumbling an apology and racing away.

“Who was that?” Gunther asked, handing Petra the box.

“That would be Armin,” Petra chuckled. “Terribly polite but apparently quite clumsy.”

“Ah!” Gunther snapped his fingers. “That’s the new recruit Levi mentioned, right?”

“Does everyone know this Armin-fellow?” Grayson sighed.

“Well, according to Erwin, he’s a big-shot,” Petra said, “and Erwin has a good intuition.”

“Fine,” Grayson said. “We’ll see soon enough so, can we please get back to work?” Thankfully, the others quickly understood, quieting down to focus on the task at hand.

“What’s wrong with him?” Oluo sneered, keeping his volume close to a whisper.

“Better not to ask,” Petra mused. “But I think I know.” That answer satisfied Oluo, and they quickly went back to working in silence.

They started with the linens, as they were the largest ones and would take the longest to dry. The first few minutes passed without interruption. Halfway through, however, the awkward tension grew to be too much for Petra, and she came up with an idea to bring more fun into the basic chore. She took one of the large white linens and threw it over Gunther, who shrieked in surprise, earning a deep laugh from both Petra and Eld. Soon, everyone was throwing sheets at one another, even Eld – the, assumed to be, mature one of the group – joined in. At some point during their playful battle, Oluo must’ve felt left out, since he came over to inquire what all the laughter was about.

And that was that. No one thought much about it when Oluo returned to his spot under the tree – that is until he suddenly wasn’t there. Petra feverishly glanced around herself, wondering where he could have run off to. Eld – unfazed – continued his task of patting down the wet cloth in his lap; it wasn’t his job to keep watch over Oluo, so why would he care where he disappeared to. A loud shriek from Petra, however, is what evidently broke the silence.

“Oluo, don’t you dare!” She squeaked, eyes focused on where Grayson sat, currently patting down his own cloth. He glanced up at her, clearly confused at her sudden outburst. It wasn’t unusual for Petra to suddenly break out into song or laughter, but her concerned tone immediately drew his attention to her. It was only seconds later that the mystery was resolved when he felt himself be doused from head to toe in cold water. There Oluo stood, hovering over Grayson, an empty water bucket in hand.

“You were looking kind of gloomy there, man,” Oluo mocked, grinning from ear to ear and greatly pleased with the outcome. Grayson’s shirt clung tightly to his body, tanned skin showing through the now translucent fabric. He began to shiver, and his wet hair started to form small curls. Eld reacted quickly, swiping his jacket off the floor to place it around his shoulders, trying to provide some form of privacy. Meanwhile, Gunther had made his way over to Oluo, who – sensing the danger he was in – promptly broke into a sprint. It was inevitable though, when Gunther grasped him by the collar, raising his fist. Oluo squeezed his eyes shut, hands flailing in front of his face – a last attempt to protect himself.

“What the hell is going on here?” An irritated voice rang out. “I clearly remember tasking you five with hanging the laundry to _dry_ , not with making it wet again.” He paused, motioning for Oluo to approach. He complied, albeit very hesitantly. “Mr. Buzado, if you feel that laundry is not in your best interests, I can always assign you something else.” Oluo visibly shuddered at the threatening undertone and the usage of his last name certainly didn’t help his situation.

“No, sir,” Oluo formally addressed him, hoping it would alleviate his punishment. “I simply wanted to play a joke, it was not my intention to slow down our process.” Grayson mentally praised Oluo for his ability to formulate a coherent sentence under such pressure, an angry Captain was not someone to mess with.

“Jests have no place in the Survey Corps,” the Captain said bluntly. “Now get back to work before I change my mind and feed you to a titan.” That was all Oluo needed, and he scrambled to the laundry heaps, grabbing whatever cloth he could get his hands on first. Eld turned to face Grayson, rubbing his shoulder gently.

“You should fetch a change of clothing from the sleeping-barracks,” he suggested, Gunther nodding in agreement.

“Yes, Gray,” Petra chimed in. “We wouldn’t want you to get sick.”

“It’s alright. I’ll be fine,” Grayson attempted to talk himself out of it, he didn’t like being the center of attention and showing weakness in front of the Captain was not exactly his idea of smart. “It’s warm outside, I won’t get sick. Besides, I can take off my shirt to dry and use Eld’s jacket in the meantime.” He waved the sleeve of the jacket – his attempt at being sounding convincing.

“Eichmann, go to the barracks, change into dry clothing, and then return,” the Captain demanded, and Grayson’s triumph was short-lived. “The last thing we need before the next expedition is a cold spreading through the barracks.” And although the tone in which he said it could’ve hinted towards a suggestion – in a very vague sense in the least – Grayson knew it was in his best interests to do as the Captain said.

He gave the Captain a curt nod before turning to Oluo with a stare that could burn through metal. Grayson’s friends knew he could feign anger quite well, able to shift his face into a terrifying expression at will, but they also knew that he only did so occasionally, and always with playful intentions. Yet Oluo was still so traumatized from his interaction with the Captain that he seemingly forgot that fact. His eyes grew wide; He was down-right terrified. It certainly didn’t help that Grayson chose today to be the day he puts on his best act – forcing Oluo further into his spiral of uncertainty. He immediately felt guilty, and in an attempt to make up for it, Grayson flashed him a soft smile – a sign of peace. But when Oluo’s expression grew grimmer, he decided there was nothing more to be done, and made his way back into the barracks.

The noise inside the sleep-barracks was overpowering, as recruits sprinted through the room, cleaning solutions in hand – a high-speed chase. All the recruits slept in the same quarters, so Grayson wasn’t surprised at the commotion, he did, however, not expect there to be so many of them here during a working day. One glance at the clock on the wall told him everything he needed to know: lunch was about to be served, and the recruits decided to take an early break – slacking off. Grayson struggled to look through the crowd, the room itself, was massive in size, housing more than one-hundred and fifty soldiers at a time. But despite the abundance of space, the number of bunks easily made the room feel cramped.

Grayson mumbled as he navigated through the maze of bunks, groaning when he reached a barricade of five beds, which had been pushed firmly together. Although the original layout required bunks to be separated by at least two meters to allow easy access, it was always a habit of many new recruits to move their bunks closer to those of their friends. In the case of _overly_ eager recruits, some beds would be slotted right next to another, leaving almost no room in between. He quickly maneuvered his way around the barricade, needing to duck his head at one intersection where two recruits were tossing a sponge back and forth.

Arriving at the foot of his bunk in the very back corner of the room, Grayson thanked whatever god there was for his assigned spot. He was currently occupying a bottom-bunk with no one above him, and as a person who valued personal space, he felt very fortunate. Grayson noted the window beside his bunk, and he reached for the handle, giving it a few tugs. It didn’t budge.

“They should really consider fixing these hinges, are they trying to suffocate us?” Grayson gasped, harshly tugging once more.

The hinges finally gave way and the framed glass bust open. A chilly gust of air rushed into the barracks, sweeping away the stale stench of deodorant mixed with sweat. Satisfied with the results, Grayson could finally bring his attention to the task at hand. He brought a finger to his chin, tapping it gently. He would need to find a new shirt, a pair of pants, and shoes - well, the shoes he could just dry off.

Bending down, Grayson tugged gently at the chest under the mattress; it wasn’t particularly large, but it was wide enough to fit around two uniforms and a simple set of sleeping clothes. The chest itself was also quite plain in design – safe the layer of lacquer that covered dark oak planks. A reasonably-sized lock dangled from one of the hinges, and Grayson reached into his pocket, scrambling around before pulling out a rusty, silver key. He gently lifted the lid, letting out a huff as his eyes landed on the empty space.

“Crap,” he leaned back on his heels, on hand planted on his hip while he ruffled the other through his hair. It was cleaning day – all spares were to be washed today. Grayson now found himself with two choices: search for some bizarre solution or return to the field and let the Captain have his head. He let the latter thought sink in.

He let out an audible groan as an idea hit him. There was _one_ thing he could try – but the risk would be too great. Grayson could already hear the two angelical beings bickering on either shoulder.

“You’ve kept it a secret for so long, why would you risk it all for such a small problem?” The Angel on his right argued.

“That’s exactly why he should risk it. He’s been carrying this burden for such a long time, what does he care if it comes to light!” The Devil sneered from his left.

“He could be killed! The much smarter option is to go to the Captain and explain the situation properly. He would certainly understand.”

“Ha! Haven’t we been trying to get on the Captain’s good side for years? It’s time to break down these walls and have some fun!”

“You seem to have forgotten the fact that Grayson could literally die if he’s exposed!” The Angel shouted in disbelief.

“What makes you think he would ever be caught? Isn’t the whole point of spring cleaning that people are busy? There’s no way anyone would find out!” Grayson couldn’t help but agree with his imaginary devil. He had been very polite to the Captain over the years, trying to gain his trust little by little – he shook his head – he wouldn’t want to ruin that. Then there’s the topic of being caught, well, the punishment was made explicitly clear, but then again:

everyone was busy, right?

_They wouldn’t find out._

_Right?_


	2. Rusty Autopilot

Grayson hastily made his way through the hallways that led to the shared-baths. They were located just outside the sleeping-barracks, he would need to head straight past the cleaning closet and take a left at the next intersection. He chuckled to himself as he saw several recruits bumbling about, unsure about which way was left and which one was right. Ironically, finding the baths was always a big problem for the new recruits, despite the directions seeming self-explanatory. Often times the recruits would be seen fooling about, running haphazardly through the dimly lit hallways in the evenings. Soon exhaustion would overtake them, and the higher-ups would find them passed out in the morning – in the most random and remote of places.

Grayson had never found himself awakening in a haystack or slouched against the railing on the rooftop. He had arrived at the Corps a little under a year ago. Some would say that’s a significant while ago, others – the more experienced soldiers – would think otherwise. Nevertheless, ever since Grayson stepped foot onto the grounds, he made it his goal to remain undiscovered – to remain hidden amongst a crowd of fellow comrades. He wasn’t patriotic though. Instead, Grayson strategically scanned all his options – the military police, garrison – before settling on the Survey Corps. His reasoning, however, was nonetheless morbid in some sense: the Survey Corps consistently received a new supply of eager recruits every couple of months. Of course, many of them would soon perish for a cause they deemed worthy, Grayson could never agree with them – he was here for one reason, and one reason only: to not get caught. He realized he could easily achieve secrecy by hiding under the masses. Most of them, he found, would never even bother to learn his name, let alone other details.

But Grayson was never one for consistency.

Soon enough, he found himself with friends of the Captain’s Squad – joyfully interacting with them at most times of the day. Petra had been the one to first approach him. Grayson could remember the day well. The training session for the new recruits had just come to an end, and he stood hunched over near the hand-to-hand combat zone – trying to catch his breath. The first expedition was approaching quickly, and so their training was made harder.

Grayson briefly thought back to his maneuvering session – how he had soared through the air with little difficultly before slicing the neck of the dummy titan in one, clean stroke. Upon landing, however, he made sure to feign a stumble – a performance good enough for praise, but not special recognition, he hoped. Unfortunately, Grayson might have faked it all too well, as he felt a burning twinge travel up his calf. It certainly didn’t help when the supervising officer came over to him, smacking his shoulder with complementing appraisal.

“My boy,” he chuckled. “That skill was absolutely splendid! The landing could use some work, but we’ll get you started on that immediately. I’ll have someone from the Levi Squad come talk to you.”

Grayson’s eyes widen at the comment, perhaps his performance had been too good. He noted to himself to tone it down for the next time, but not before attempting to argue his way out of this new arrangement.  
“Sir, I don’t think I’ll be able to take on extra training.”

“Oh?” The officer gave him a disapproving look. “And why would that be?”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” Grayson winced genuinely, to his surprise. “It seems that I’ve injured my leg. I’d like to allow it to heal before heading outside the walls.”

“Ah, my boy!” The officer’s cheerful tone returned. “We’ll get that fixed up in no time! For now, head to Hanji, they’ll know how to fix you up – good as new!” Grayson cringed at the man’s enthusiasm, but he felt that he’d managed to avoid the suggested special training. He thought that deserved some type of smile.

Grayson straightened himself upright, gasping for air every time the searing pain would shoot through his leg. Getting to Hanji’s office would be a struggle. Unfortunately, another voice piped up, and Grayson could feel himself die a little inside.

“Hello!” A female voice cheerful spoke. “I heard that you’ve injured your leg, do you need a hand?”

Grayson looked up at the outstretched hand, his eyes traveling up further to look at the voice’s face. The woman, no – he knew her, Petra, had soft brown eyes and her face was framed with dirty blonde hair, her bangs soaked in sweat. Grayson knew it would take him two nights alone to make it to Hanji’s office, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to have someone help him. He hesitantly took her hand, which in turn grasped him tightly. They slowly made their way – albeit stumbling here and there – to the infirmary, and to his surprise, Petra didn’t speak one word, never losing her gentle gaze. What can he say, he enjoyed the peace.

Grayson reached for the handle of the wooden door, giving it a few knocks before entering. Common courtesy, he thought. In earlier days, most recruits would refuse to knock, that was until they were faced with the threats and consequences of the high-ranking officers. Since then, they made sure to knock in a presence of an authority figure, but aside from that small change, their manners were still lacking.

Grayson immediately took in the smaller space; the baths were, cozy is a nice word for it. Unlike the sleeping-barracks, the baths were significantly smaller in size, which often meant that they were overcrowded at times. Occasionally, there would be more than two consecutive groups of soldiers visiting the baths after an expedition – that is, of course, to say that the expedition went well.

Grayson pushed the thought out of his head and walked over to one of the basins, closing the door and placing a chair under the handle to prevent any unwanted company. He stood in front of the wooden tub with metal hinges and allowed himself a glance in the mirror. He looked absolutely terrible. Brushing a hand through his locks, Grayson attempted to somewhat style his unruly hair, which was slowly becoming frizzy. Deep purple bags sat right below his worn eyes – a visible sign of his exhaustion. Perhaps staying up most nights with his nose in a book was not the smartest idea. His eyes travelled down to his clothes, and he let out a satisfied hum as he saw that his shoes were already dry.

“Leather really is convenient,” he hummed, rolling up his sleeves. “Alright, no more delay. I’ll do this as swiftly as possible.” Grayson marveled at his self-confidence, after all, he was in no way convinced that this would go well.

And, of course, he was right.

Raising an arm, he hovered his hand over the damp shirt. His fingers were tensed, completely outstretched but slightly curled at the tip. In one fellow swoop, Grayson pulled his fingers together in a star shape, simultaneously pulling his hand away from his chest. His eyes widened and he couldn’t help but smile when he saw a sphere of water slowly peel away from his clothing. His joy was short-lived though, when the drop suddenly exploded, splattering the liquid all over his face.

“Ugh!” Grayson let out a groan of frustration. He knew it wouldn’t be perfect, after all, he hadn’t practiced it in so long. And yet, he couldn’t help his disappointment.

Grayson immediately attempted the motions again. Hand in the right position – check, slowly bring the fingers together, and a gentle shift away from the body – check. He clenched his eyes shut, too afraid to see what he had been taught to hide for all these years. Maybe it didn’t even work. Maybe I lost my ability, maybe I can finally be normal – just another soldier behind the walls, he hoped.

It took some time for Grayson to hesitantly open an eye, making sure to keep the other tightly shut. His mouth fell open right then and there – before him, was a floating sphere of sparkling, clear blue. His body moved as though it were on autopilot – albeit a very out-of-date autopilot – and he brought his left hand up to cradle the liquid bubble. He had done it so often when he was young, under the watchful supervision of his mother – and yet, it felt so foreign, so real.

Grayson was simply mesmerized at the floating drop, and as much as he wished to be normal – to not have as many struggles – he had to admit he missed it. He missed the small water battles he would have with his mother at home, his father defenseless. Of course, even these had to be done in secrecy, behind the walls of their home.

Life inside the walls had, historically, always been dangerous for some families, many of which were hunted down to extinction. The only known clan to survive? The Ackerman. Grayson belonged to a different clan, one that is thought to be extinct: the Elementum. They were one of the largest clans, encompassing over four different sub-clans so-to-speak: the water-tribe, earth-kingdom, fire-nation, and air-nomads. Each sub-clan was able to control one natural element; logically, those born in the fire-nation were able to manipulate the natural element of fire.

Of course, there were exceptions. Non-bending children were a common occurrence, and they heavily impacted the extinction rate. Furthermore, in very rare cases, a child could manifest a deeper spiritual connection with their element, gaining the ability to manipulate the element to the extremes: lightening, blood, ice, metal, flight.

But it was all too good to be true. The power of the Elementum Clan was soon compared to that of the devil, and the fear that the clan would rise to power consumed humanity. It didn’t take long for members of the clan to be trialed under law, and consequently, brutally hunted down. Most retreated to the underground, forced to live their lives under fear of discovery – Grayson’s parents were among them.

It pained him to think about it – how he was the last one left, all alone. Grayson glanced at the floating water sphere through teary eyes, surprised that it hadn’t broken apart yet.

“I guess I still got it,” Grayson mumbled, but perhaps he spoke too soon, as the bubble suddenly popped, little droplets rained into the bucket.

“Well,” a pause. “At least I made it to the tub this time.”

Grayson quickly moved his hand to his pants, repeating the motion once more. Gently moving the bubbles to the tub, Grayson felt his confidence skyrocket at his success, and a knock at the door told him he had finished just in time too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! 
> 
> This chapter is a bit shorter than the first, and I think most chapters (following this one) will be around the 2'000 word range. On another note: Grayson is getting back into his Waterbending habits. I wonder if he'll have any sub-set skills. Perhaps he has a deep spiritual connection of some sort.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys!
> 
> I actually wrote parts of this story quite some time ago (I found the old draft buried in my files), so most of it won't be accurate with how the manga evolved (just to be safe, I added a spoilers tag). I always wanted to create an Avatar x Shingeki no Kyojin mash-up, and I guess now's the time to edit that old script and turn it into reality. Here's the first chapter and I hope you enjoy!


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